


Why Don't You Make Me?

by Tasteful_Lies



Category: DC - Fandom, DCEU, SS - Fandom, Suicide Squad - Fandom
Genre: Kissing, Light Smut, Making Out, Margot Robbie - Freeform, Suicide Squad, Will Smith - Freeform, fiance, scrambled eggs, semi-domestic, wall kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasteful_Lies/pseuds/Tasteful_Lies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley steals an important ingredient in Floyd's midnight snack. He goes to great lengths to get it back. (Mild smut, fluff, drabble)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Don't You Make Me?

“The way that you know what I thought I knew,  
It's the beat my heart skips when I'm with you,  
But I still don't understand;  
Just how your love can do what no one else can.”  
-Crazy in Love, Beyoncé

~

 

“Dollface, hand it over.”

 

~

The kitchen had been alight, the stove turned on while a pan sizzled to life. It was the middle of the night, being almost two in the morning. Curious as to why her fiancé had left her alone in their Queen-sized bed, Harley had thrown the covers aside. Her loose t-shirt accompanied a pair of pink cotton underwear. She didn’t try to impress him very often, yet whenever he saw her, Floyd was rendered awestruck. 

Her bare feet impacting softly with the floorboards, the blonde woman trekked out from the bedroom, running a hand through her soft hair, trying to tame it. Floyd was standing shirtless with his pajama pants, facing away from her, busy with something on the counter. So many years of being a hit-man had trained him to be observant and careful with his senses, yet she always managed to sneak up on him.

Doing so now, he didn’t even realize she was there until her pale arms sneaked around his midsection, pulling him backwards a bit so that his back was flush against her front. He was warm, a stark difference from the relatively chilly flat. He startled, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the woman who had sneak-attacked him. Smirking, Floyd twisted one of his arms back to gently touch Harley’s hip.

 

“Good morning, beautiful.”

 

“Why’re ya’ up so early, Mellow? Come back to bed…”

 

“I’m making a midnight snack, doll.”

 

“You’re about two hours late for that.”

 

Floyd chuckled, turning around in her arms and bending down to gently press a kiss to her lips. Harley responded immediately, but slowly, a smile tugging on her lips as she leaned up to return the kiss. He backed out after a few moments, his lips lingering. Carefully kissing the tip of her nose, Floyd detached himself and turned back to what he had been doing. Apparently he had located the egg beaters in the fridge, and was making scrambled eggs.

 

“Such a midnight snack.”

 

Harley giggled, hoisting herself up onto the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. He began to pour a bit of the egg beater into the pan, watching it sizzle as it settled onto the black iron. He already had a plate full of the scrambled eggs, but he seemed to have a goal of finishing off the carton.

There was a variety of spices that they had collected and kept in the drawer beneath the microwave, but he savored his “Nature’s Seasons” the most because it tasted so good on scrambled eggs (which Harley had quickly learned to be his favorite breakfast food). Sliding herself off of the counter, Harley advanced towards him, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. He knew what was coming, but he didn’t try to stop it as her hand reached for his plastic bottle of spice.

~

 

“How about… you make me?”

Standing on one side of the couch while Floyd watched her from the other, Harley was grinning from ear-to-ear, clutching the bottle of seasoning in her left hand. She bounced from one foot to the other, waiting for him to make his move. He did, running forwards and jumping over the back of the couch, one foot landing on the cushions and the other on the hardwood floors. Harley had already moved, laughing as she circled around to the other side of the couch again. He was ready for this, though. 

Launching himself quickly over the back of the couch, Floyd’s arms closed around his fiancé’s waist, holding her back to his front tightly. Harley squealed, giggling as he held her close to his body.

 

“You gonna hand it over, Harl?”

 

“Nope.”

 

She was obviously trying not to laugh as she murmured the single word. Her “make me” statement had originally been meant as a joke, but Floyd intended on taking it very seriously. Her back stiffened like the strings of a cello as his lips connected with her throat. Harley’s breath came short, her eyes drifting closed as her head tilted to the side to grant him better access. She still held the spice tightly in her hand, in front of her small form.

Floyd’s lips were gentle, but after a few moments of her not returning his stolen property, his teeth nipped her skin. She shivered, whimpering softly, sounding almost like a mewling kitten. Oh, how he adored that noise. He leaned into her slightly, causing Harley to shift her feet forwards on the hardwood floors. Finding that his method was working, he led her to the nearest flat wall, quickly turning her around by her waist.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, the spice bottle contained among her fingers, her grip not faltering as his mouth crashed down against hers. The kiss quickly escalated, his fingers beneath her t-shirt, scaling the soft skin of her tattooed waist and the small of her back. Suddenly, his hands took both of her thighs and lifted them into the air, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist.

She did, and he moved forwards further, their tongues battling for dominance. She might be against the wall, but she also had what he wanted. One hand gripped her ass, holding her against his body while the other continued to explore beneath her shirt. His mouth pulled back from hers, only to trail back down to her neck, leaving little red love marks that would definitely appear on her skin the next day. 

Harley was openly moaning, soft sounds of desperation escaping her lips. She could feel his hardness between her clothed legs, which pushed her past her breaking point. The bottle of spices slipped through her fingers, clattering to the floor. Floyd dropped her legs carefully but quickly, turning away from his partner to pick up the abandoned seasonings. Her hair messy and her face flushed, Harley watched as he walked back into the kitchen.

 

“Mean.”

 

“It’s my middle name.”

 

“Floyd Mean Lawton?”

 

“Don’t worry, doll. I'll pay you back later..”


End file.
